Earth being born

The delightful forty degree weather allowed me to spurn my unzippable fluffy winter coat (see Coat Saga) in favor of my navy coat with four gold buttons. There should be six, but my jackets hate me.

Anyway, I was walking outside and smelled what struck me as a kind of mulchy smell. Like spring. I couldn't really put my finger on it, but I'm going to call it the Spring Lump for now, because the air was really heavy with it.

And that was my day.

I am Famous

I have devised a plot such that whenever people think of Heath Ledger or Bill Clinton my shining face comes right to mind.

Such that:
+

=

Wow. Formatting that was more arduous than standing in line for three hours and waiting for Bill Clinton to show up.

Anyway, I am always the first to know about anything that concerns Bill and Heath. When Heath died (and though I didn't know him, I was sad because I felt like I was getting old, you know? Because I actually am familiar with his work, not like when my parents are like, "Ramana Panaluke died today, how sad, such a valued member of the Purple Eggs." Or whatever. It makes me feel old, you get the point.) I was the first to spread the news. "Did you hear that Jen cheated on Max?" the girls in the industrial bathroom would flit. "Did you hear that Heath Ledger DIED?!?!?" I'd reply, thinking that I would become the official source of gossip.

"Who's Heath Ledger?"

Ummmmm.....what?

If you don't know who he is, look him up. I'm not that much of an anti-pop culture nerd not to have heard of this dude. And some of his films were excellent.

There went my gossip dreams. But I like to imagine that my face, flushed yet apporpriately solemn as the occasion demanded, is (to them) inexplicably tied with the birth of Heath in their impoverished minds. I am Heath Ledger.

More on Bill later. I'm going to watch my friends play video games and comment on how artificial and pseudo-hipster they all are.

Meh.

Srsly, there isn't much happening here. Almost makes me want to go back to school, even back to that industrial plant posing as a dorm bathroom. My life (which I just misspelled as "lice"--is there a word for a written Freudian slip? Just kidding.) is now equal to the sum of the following:

1. Dried fruit: apples, pineapples, and mangoes (the latter of which I had to take back to the store because they contained sulfur dioxide or some shit like that)
2. Silent Cinema book (thanks, Anthony!)
3. Datebook (which is surprisingly full considering I feel like nothing is going on in my life)
4. Wednesday, January 9th!!! (of which only a select few Muhlenbergers know the significance)
5. Flaky ears (apparently the shampoo at the hair salon gave me something akin to a chemical burn)
6. Lack of sleep (from pillow friction against said flaky ears)
7. Chocolate-covered blueberries (they speak for themselves)
8. Maddie (once in person, once in my dreams)
9. Hipster
10. Love Actually